


She Shook Me Cold

by MrsJackMurphy1



Series: New Mistakes [1]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-04 00:23:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21188468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsJackMurphy1/pseuds/MrsJackMurphy1
Summary: Jayne is a 25 year old from Canada, having recently moved to London. She's a med student, she's got a past, and is in the process of starting a new life as a result. She's working in the coffee house that is frequented by the boys in Queen. All except one of them, and she's about to discover why.





	She Shook Me Cold

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is my very first work. Please go easy on me.  
**Possible TRIGGERS: Vague mentions domestic violence.  
Light angst, fluff, and light smut.  
Set in the early to mid 70's, sort of AU but not really. Kind of.

“I’m so sorry, Mark!! I _ never _oversleep! This is so embarrassing. Ugh!” 

Jayne hurled her book bag in the alcove behind the counter of the small coffee shop, ran her fingers through her hair, and looked at her boss with guilty eyes. Mark just grinned at her and brushed it off. 

“No worries, love. You're probably still jet lagged...that or you had a brilliant time last night?” 

Mark chuckled as he teased her. Jayne rolled her eyes and shook her head, slightly embarrassed, but laughed at his jab.

“Hardly! It was a late night, but just me, a bottle of wine and the textbooks, unfortunately”. 

Jayne replied, as she wrapped a black barista apron around her waist and pushed her hair back once more. There was always a long strand or two that habitually fell over her left eye. She built herself her morning coffee - dark roast with two sugars and two cream - her very own “double double”. Mark watched her, and shook his head at her again with a genuine smile on his face. 

“What?” Jayne questioned with a laugh.

“Oh nothing...it's just your coffee ritual….”double double”...you Canadians…”. Mark teased and then left Jayne to her vices, making his way to the back room to do the business of paperwork. 

Jayne sighed heavily and silently thanked the universe for handing her a quiet morning at work. She was awake enough, but had a lot to sort out, now that she began to put down roots in London. Shallow roots, to be sure, but she had landed and this would have to suffice. Mark was a friendly fellow; probably in his late 30’s, owner of the small coffee shop (which also sold used and hard to find books), her boss, and conveniently, also her landlord. He owned the old brick building that housed the coffeeshop, as well as the flat above, which Jayne had moved into just about a month prior. As luck would have it, Mark was also looking to hire someone in the coffee shop. It was a pretty decent stroke of luck. 

She loved the energy of the building: the creaking, ancient oak floorboards that were so worn with the ages that her feet made shuffling sounds as she padded across them. It was the same up in her flat. She loved the smell of the place, and the books added to the antiquity of the space. 

Sipping her coffee, she put a record on the turntable and the soulful sounds of Billie Holiday began to waft through the shop. It was not much past 10 am, so Jayne busied herself around the place, reshelving books, stopping now and then to skim through a few pages as she went along.

Jayne was not more than 25 years old, a petite 5’5” with a small, but curvy build. Her hair was long and layered, but past the middle of her back, and the color of espresso coffee. Her nose was straight and a wee bit pointed at the end, and her eyes were more green than hazel. But if she’d been crying or enraged, they would change to a striking emerald green. Otherwise, her features were angular, but still soft and feminine. Her eyes, despite her past and all they'd seen, still had sparkle and a glint of mischief in them. She was an old soul, intuitive and kind. 

She’d been a lot of things in her 25 years. A daughter, a friend, a lover, a healer, a musician, artist and even a photographer. She had always been loyal and trusting… to a fault. Jayne found herself staring at her coffee mug as she realised her thoughts had drifted away to her recent past, and the events that had brought her across the Atlantic, all the way to London. She shook her head to rid herself of the memories, strands of almost black hair falling over her eyes yet again.

“Fresh start, Jayne. Clean slate.” She whispered to herself as she pushed her hair behind her ear. “No more cobwebs”. 

The door to the shop opened just then, allowing a refreshing spring breeze find its way in, fleetingly. 

“Oh, morning there, Blondie!” Jayne smiled brightly at the man who’d bounced into the shop.

Roger came in a few times a week to order coffee and sometimes baked goods for himself and his bandmates, who were writing and recording their second album across the road and down the street, at Trident.

She slid behind the counter and awaited his retort, along with his order.

“Good morning, Temptress,” Roger teased, “I’d like the usual 5 coffees, and YOU on the side.” 

He leaned far over the counter, his heavy-lidded ocean blue eyes gazing into her green ones, his hands sliding forward over the worn oak top counter, swiftly moving in an attempt to catch the front pocket of her apron.

Jayne rolled her eyes, and swatted his fingers away. She laughed and put a hand on her hip, taking a step back to avoid his grasps and to get started on the espresso.

“Jesus, Meaddows, do you ever quit? It’s barely noon and you're already on the prowl?” She scolded.

“It’s never too early for love, my dear, and don’t call me that. I should never have divulged that information. So when are you finally gonna come by the studio and hang out? Fred’s been haranguing me about you, Deaky wants your opinion on some riffs, and well, you haven’t even met Poodle-Head yet, but you’re not missing much there…” 

Roger drifted off a little at the end of that statement, and Jayne sighed as she steamed the milk for his coffee order. 

“I promise I’ll come by as soon as I’m able ...I'm swamped with studying - it’s all I’ve been doing, other than work, really - challenging this equivalency exam at Imperial will be the death of me!” Jayne complained dramatically, earning a whiny protest from Roger.

She had been in her second year of medicine back home, and needed to ace this exam to gain acceptance into the program here in London.

“Shit woman, you need a night off!” Roger leaned against the counter and smiled seductively at Jayne.

“Saturday night. You’re coming to a party. With me. I won’t take no for an answer.”

“I caaaaan’t, Blondie. Seriously.” She protested, snapping the lids on the to-go coffee cups for him.

“Nope.” He countered, shaking his mess of blonde hair. “You're mine Saturday night, no excuses. I know you live upstairs and I will come get you and drag you out if I have to. 8pm. Be ready, darlin’.” 

He paid for his order, scooped up his purchases and punctuated his words with a hard stare.

“Fine. Saturday night. Jesus, you are nothing if not persistent!” Jayne conceded.

“Oh, you have no idea, my dear..no idea whatsoever…” 

Roger winked at her and pushed the door open with his shoulder, sliding out of the shop with a triumphant grin across his face.

She watched him jog across the street, disappearing after a few seconds. “What an awful flirt! He never stops.” Jayne thought to herself. 

Sighing, she cleaned up the work space and let Billie Holiday take over. Inevitably, the prospect of attending a party in a couple of nights from now, made her a bit nervous. She didn’t know many people in this new place, and preferred to keep her circle small. Socializing though, was best done in crowds. She felt much safer with others around her. Being alone was rather nerve-wracking, unless she was locked away in her flat. Soho was never really quiet anyway, so that was a strategic bonus.

Jayne sort of wished that it had been Deaky who’d come to get the coffee this morning….he was passive by comparison. She liked his gentle demeanour. If Freddie had come by, she’d still have been coerced into a party or something equally deviant, knowing him. “Poodle-head” on the other hand ...she had no clue. Brian was still faceless to her. 

Saturday arrived quickly. Jayne had spent every waking moment not spent at work, studying. She already had a couple of college diplomas under her belt, but craved more. She knew she was smart and capable, but would never put herself out there. She was an odd combination of shyness and insecurity, paired with an edgy, dark side that could erupt with ferocious passion if triggered. Good or bad. She was intense but had learned to temper the fire somewhat. Her recent past had both doused and fed that fire. So coming to a foreign country and city was helping to keep her demons quiet. For now.

She put some Bowie on the record player, and started to get ready for her first party in London. She was feeling upbeat, and brave tonight. “She Shook Me Cold” blared throughout her flat, she revelled in the fact that she didn’t have any neighbours, especially after the coffee shop closed for the day. She could turn up the volume, and jump up and down if she liked. 

She chose a simple outfit for the evening, settling on black leggings, with a black button up top with slightly flared cuffs. Black leather mid-calf boots. Her fingernails freshly painted black. Ahhhh, her edge was making an appearance tonight, after all. She smirked at herself in the mirror at the observation. Her make up was light, a little smoky eyeliner, mascara and deep burgundy lipstick, which always made her green eyes go greener. She smiled at herself and liked that she could clean up well without too much effort. She was definitely a low maintenance girl. And Roger’s complete opposite. 

Jayne sang along at top volume as she readied herself …

”**Then she took my head, smashed it up**

**Kept my young blood rising**

**Crushed me mercilessly, kept me going around**

**So she don't know I crave her so-o-o…”**

The buzzer for her flat began ringing. Over and over and over. She leaned her head out the open sash window and looked down to see Roger staring up at her and pushing the button repeatedly, the sun fading behind him.

“I’ll be right down!” She yelled over her music.

“Let me up, Jayne!” Roger screamed at her.

“No way in hell! I’m coming down now!” She called back.

He sneered at her and pushed the button hard and for a full ten seconds before letting it go and shoving his hands into the pockets of his flared jeans. No way in hell was she letting Roger up to her flat. Alone. She was comfortable with him, and even almost trusted him, but knew him well enough to know that he’d probably been pre-drinking (so had she been), and would absolutely try to put the moves on her in any space that was not in public. He was certainly cute, and firey, but he was also blonde and blue eyed. Not her jam. At all. She liked her men taller than herself, dark haired and darker eyed. Thanks, but no thanks, Blondie.

Jayne threw on her black leather coat, grabbed the bottle of whiskey she'd bought for the occasion, locked the door to her flat and rushed downstairs. God forbid she kept the little horndog waiting.

Roger's blue eyes grew wide when he saw Jayne come out of the building. A wide smile crossed his face before he let out a wolf whistle.

"Fuck _ ME _, you look hot tonight, Jayne!" He gushed. He’d never seen her outside of the coffee shop, or without an apron wrapped around her form.

"Ever the gentleman, aren't you?"

Jayne laughed, and with that he exaggerated the implication by gallantly swinging open the back door of the waiting cab, and ushered Jayne in, his hand on the small of her back. 

Roger smiled slyly at her as he slung his arm around her shoulders once he was seated next to her. There was no need for him to be sitting so close to her...legs touching, his arm heavy on her, while his fingers played with the hair at the nape of her neck. He certainly was persistent...and Jayne couldn't help but feel like she was a little fly that had just gotten herself caught in a spider's web. The cab ride to the house party was short, thankfully. Roger's brazen advances were becoming annoying. 

He shared the small house with Freddie and Brian; Deaky lived on his own with his girlfriend, Veronica.

Upon entering the house, Jayne was greeted by the sounds of a Led Zeppelin record, the laughter of people inside and then Roger's shrill "Oi!! I've got her here, mates!" right behind her left ear. 

As Roger slammed the door behind them, Freddie swooped into the small foyer and threw his arms around Jayne and declared: 

"I simply cannot believe that Roger actually succeeded in convincing you to join us! I'm absolutely thrilled that you're here, darling! Please, come in, come in!"

This earned an eye roll from Roger who stated that no one should ever be shocked by his ability to convince a woman of practically anything. Freddie linked his arm in yours and led you away to the kitchen.

"Come on, dear, he's so undignified ...let's go help the girls with the snacks and drinks!" 

At the kitchen counter you found Veronica with another woman who was helping her pour various bottles of booze into a huge punch bowl. Jayne knew Veronica from the coffee shop, so she greeted her with a smile and a warm hug. 

"Jayne, this is Mary. She's with Fred." 

Veronica began. You greeted Mary and she returned the smile.

Freddie beamed at the sight of his favourite girls welcoming a new sister into the family, as it were. 

"Jayne is from Canada! She's like a little baby Briton!" 

He threw his head back, laughing at his own good natured joke. His black hair shook with his head’s movements and you couldn’t help but feel good around Freddie. 

“Hey, steady Freddie”, you countered, “I’m all Canadian, not British! It’s been a long time since my grandparents crossed the pond!” You laughed and Freddie blew you a kiss, before rearranging the liquor bottles to be more esthetically pleasing. 

The main floor of the house - which Freddie affectionately called “Mercury Manor”, much to Roger and Brian’s chagrin, was small but had a fairly open concept. So, from the kitchen or dining area, one still had a good view of most of the living room. It was comfortable, and pretty tidy for a houseful of men. 

Jayne helped the other women prep more snacks and they filled each others glasses, while Mary and Veronica filled her in on the latest news. And as they did, more guests arrived and the energy picked up considerably. From her viewpoint, Jayne could see Deaky on the couch, chatting with a man she didn’t recognize. Roger was on the other side of the room, leaning up against the mantle, flirting shamelessly with a blonde girl who wore what appeared to be go-go boots, pink satin short shorts, and a matching satin camisole. 

Mary leaned over to Jayne and pointed at Roger’s newest victim. 

“I can’t recall her name, but she’s one of Roger’s regulars. Nice enough girl, but kind of dense.”

Jayne giggled and commented that she was pretty sure the girl was wearing pajamas. Mary and Veronica nodded in agreement, clinking their glasses in cheers. 

The atmosphere was light and fun, so Jayne excused herself and made her way, with drink in hand, over to Deaky to say hello. He stood up when he saw her approach, and smiled at her. She liked the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he truly smiled, and the little gap between his front teeth. He was genuinely nice, and that was refreshing.

“There you are, Deacon, John Deacon!” Jayne said to him as he embraced her. 

Still smiling at her he shook his head, 

“Why do you insist on calling me that?” he questioned.

Jayne laughed and reminded him that that was how he’d introduced himself to her at the coffee shop after he’d become a regular there. He rolled his eyes and smiled some more.

“I've been hanging out with Ronnie and Mary; those two are a bad influence,” Jayne told Deaky, “they fill my glass to the top whenever I’m not looking and I think they’re quite enjoying getting me drunk. I’m quite enjoying it too, actually!” 

Deaky laughed and clucked his tongue as if to caution her. Jayne winked at him and turned to head back to where the two women were chatting over the massive punch bowl. They were scooping ladles full of punch into their glasses, trying to gather as many bits of alcohol soaked fruit as possible with each scoop. 

Someone had changed the record and Electric Warrior blasted through the speaker. 

“Oh.My.God. I LOVE T.Rex!!” 

Jayne practically squealed as she shimmied her hips to the beat. Ronnie giggled and pushed Jayne’s shoulder lightly.

“Such a badass!'' Ronnie teased.

Jayne flashed her a toothy grin, her teeth white against her plum lipstick, and her canine teeth just barely poking over her bottom lip. She really was enjoying herself, especially now that Roger had found someone else to flirt with.

Just then, the front door opened. Jayne couldn’t see who the guests were beyond the divider wall, but could hear Freddie cheering upon the latest arrival. A moment later, he scurried into the kitchen, his arms full of three bottles of champagne.

“Thank God Brian’s finally arrived, I thought I’d die if I didn't get a little bubbly soon!”

Freddie dramatically gesticulated at the bottles he’d set on the counter, and happily popped a cork and poured a flute of the stuff for himself and Mary.

“Cheers, Darling!” he said to her as he clinked her glass and threw the champagne back.

Then he was off again to mingle. Jayne leaned her elbow on the back of a dining room chair and watched the festivities that had taken over the place. And that's when she saw him. 

Tall, lean, and lanky with a beautiful head of chocolate curls. “THAT must be Brian”, she thought to herself. She watched him as he draped his coat over the back of a chair in the living room, and he smiled down at the blonde woman he’d come in with. She simply rolled her blue eyes at him and then stepped away from him in order to greet some friends. He looked a bit lost for a split second until, Deaky handed him a drink and gently patted his shoulder, saying something Jayne couldn’t interpret, before walking away from Brian. 

Jayne’s breath seemed to get stuck in her lungs, and she found herself exhaling as though she’d been holding her it in for a few seconds. She continued to watch Brian; she felt transfixed as she observed the small details of his movements, his expressions. He seemed suddenly alone at his own party - well, Fred’s party - but Brian lived there, too. 

He took a sip of his drink and turned to take the few steps to the record player. He picked up the album cover and inspected it for a while. Jayne noticed how he stooped a little, the slight forward rounding of his shoulders, which were likely quite broad, if he’d stand up straight. The way his mane of curls fell forward over his sideburns and high cheekbones as he read the wording on the T.Rex album. The way his lips would part slightly and then he’d inevitably purse them together, again and again. His angular features and straight nose reminded her of a Roman statue. He was focused, his movements gentle and precise, and Jayne liked the glinting of his signet ring on his pinky finger everytime he brought his glass to his lips. His shirt seemed a bit too small too, and she found that endearing.

“Ooh, there’s Brian!” Ronnie said to Jayne, effectively startling her out of her intense observation. Jayne inhaled sharply, again feeling like she’d been holding her breath and replied: 

“I assumed as much, based on Roger’s poodle head description of him”. 

Jayne forced a light smile at Ronnie and Mary in an effort to appear calm and collected. Mary leaned in close and drunk-whispered

“And that's _ Linda.” _

She nodded her head in the direction of the blue eyed blonde who had arrived with Brian. Mary had said Linda’s name as if her mouth were full of shit when she’d spoken it. Ronnie leaned in close too, and sneered a little.

"We don’t love Linda, I take it?” Jayne asked, raising her eyebrows.

Mary and Ronnie both made gagging motions and exchanged glances. 

Mary continued: “She and Brian have been dating for like, a year, and _ none of us _can stand her! She’s rude, and bitchy and treats Brian like shit most of the time.”

Jayne was surprised. “Really? That’s awful! Why does he put up with it?”

Ronnie chimed in and said “Who knows? Either he’s too nice, or she must be really good at something!”

Mary gagged again and Jayne laughed uncomfortably. 

“Gross!”

“Who’s gross?” Roger appeared over Jayne’s shoulder and rested his chin there.

“You are, Meaddows.” Jayne teased, obviously feeling the effects of the whisky she’d been nursing.

He jabbed a finger into her ribs, eliciting a shriek from her as she threw her head back against his chest. Jayne wriggled away from Roger and sprinted into the kitchen to refill her glass, and put some distance between herself and him.

He followed her in and grabbed himself another beer from the fridge. The kitchen was empty except for the two of them. Roger spun around after opening his beer, took a long drink and then crowded Jayne back up against the counter, placing his hands on either side of her on the countertop, effectively caging her in place. Jayne held her glass of whisky in one hand and looked up at Roger, smirking a little defiantly. The teasing and flirting had become more tolerable with the passing of time, and consumption of alcohol. 

Roger stared into Jayne’s eyes, holding her gaze while his right knee pressed against the narrow space between her own knees, asking permission. She didn’t budge, until he smirked and then lowered his head to press his lips to her skin at the crook of her neck. Instinctively and unintentionally, she moved her legs slightly to allow his right leg access. She heard him hum against her neck as he pushed his knee past hers, and then his thigh coming to rest between her own.

He took the opportunity afforded him, and pressed his hips flush against hers, his hands still on the countertop at her sides. Her free hand found his bicep and she gripped his arm, exhaling. His lips then continued along the curve of her neck and when he began to suck one spot, she could feel the bulge in his pants pressing hard against her.

“Roger…..” she breathed and pressed her free hand to his chest in an effort to make some space between them. 

He released his lips from her neck before he had a chance to leave a mark, much to his dismay. He looked her in the eye and rutted his hips against her once, smirking.

“You’ve never called by my actual name before, Jayne...clearly I do have an effect on you.” He drawled proudly at her, eyes heavy with lust and drunkenness.

“Either way, this is _ not _ happening.” Jayne stated as she pushed him further back and leaned her torso backwards. Roger gave his hips one last thrust against her, and then freed her from his cage. 

“Oh, it will, Jayne. I promise you that. And when it does, you'll be screaming my name properly.” 

He winked at her and stepped back, the bulge in his pants obvious as he took a swig from the bottle of beer. He backed out of the kitchen and shamelessly waltzed back into the crowd of people in the living room. Jayne wiped at her neck where his lips had been, and then wiped her hand on her leggings. “Gross ...I think.” she mumbled to herself under her breath. 

She took a long sip of her drink, clearing Roger and his bulge from her mind, and finally looked up and across the room. By pure chance, her eyes met with Brian’s. Once again, her breath hitched.

He had been looking at her, watching her with Roger. 

Brian’s dark eyes bore into hers from 30 feet away, over the crowd of people who were laughing, dancing and drinking. His face seemed expressionless, but there was an intensity in his stare. It felt like a knife to her solar plexus, twisting and turning. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't stop herself from holding Brian’s gaze; he was absolutely hypnotic. He lifted his glass to take a drink, his ring catching the light, as his eyes continued their assault.

Just then, _ Linda _ appeared at his side, admonishing him for not paying her enough attention. He immediately broke eye contact with Jayne, and his cheeks flushed as apologies fell from his lips as he placed his hand on Linda’s arm. She yanked her arm away and glared at him. He lowered his head and seemed to stare at his feet now. 

Jayne felt a fire burning inside her chest at the sight. The girls were right. Linda really was awful. It was no exaggeration. And Brian _ took it _, like a scolded child, he took it. Out of left field, Jayne felt the urge to march over to Linda and smack her in the mouth. She shook the idea from her head and levelled her breathing. She hardly knew Brian. They’d never even been properly introduced, but she felt fiercely protective of his heart for some reason. 

Jayne had broken all ties with everyone she’d known before she had abruptly left her home in Canada. She’d been no stranger to dysfunction and even violence, usually on the receiving end. For years, she had endured the role of protector and care-giver, sometimes for others, sometimes for herself. She suddenly felt shocked that her first reaction to seeing Linda treat Brian badly, was one of violence. He reaction frightened her. But she also felt a sense of justification...because Brian, though she didn’t even know him, was part of her friends’ family. And that’s all that mattered.

With an adequate amount of liquid courage coursing through her veins a few moments later, Jayne stalked over to where Brian stood, still looking at the floor. She plastered a smile on her face and stopped in front of Linda, face to face. 

“Hi there!” Jayne chirped. “I thought I’d come say hello. I’m Jayne. We haven't yet met, and I’m kind of new around here, sooo…” 

Jayne’s words trailed off as she caught Brian’s careful gaze once more. This time she was able to focus back on Linda, and she stuck her hand to her out for a friendly handshake. On the inside though, she was seething.

“Oh.” came the reply, “I’m Linda, and this is my boyfriend Brian.”

Linda gestured vaguely toward him, as if he wasn't much more than an afterthought, and completely ignored Jayne’s offer of her hand. Interestingly though, Linda still insisted on laying claim to him, despite her obvious disdain. 

Brian took Jayne’s hand in his, and barely above a whisper replied “Pleased to meet you, Jayne…” 

Her eyes locked with his again, and at the touch of his hand, electricity jolted through her body, or so it felt. Jayne had never felt anything like it...a connection quite like that. It nearly consumed her, and she knew that Brian felt it too, by the way his hazel eyes widened just slightly, and his pupils dilated, at her touch. He held onto Jayne’s hand just a second too long, and he swiftly withdrew from her upon the realization. Her hand tingled after the brief warmth from his contact.

Linda interjected rudely, but hadn't caught on to the energy between Jayne and Brian. She was too busy ignoring him.

“Well, obviously you're new here ...I've never seen _ you _ before, and what are you, anyway? American?” 

Jayne bristled at Linda’s assumption but regained her composure and through gritted teeth she smiled and replied 

“Noooo, I’m Canadian, Linda. Quite different than American, I assure you.” 

Jayne tried to veil her insult as much as possible, for the sake of not creating a scene at her friends’ house party, but it was a real effort. Brian sighed and looked away, closing his eyes briefly, his cheeks still flushed. Jayne took this as her queue to end the attempted pleasantries, and to spare Brian from further possible admonishment from Linda, she politely excused herself and found a seat on the couch next to Freddie. He was waving his arms wildly as he regaled a few people with stories of the latest gig’s afterparty. 

Jayne crossed her legs and bounced her foot. She was angry. And Jayne being angry _ and _ almost drunk was not a good combination. 

The evening wore on, and soon the guests were all filtering out into the night, each making their way home, wherever that would be for the night. Deaky and Ronnie had long gone, Roger had disappeared with the blonde in her satin pajamas, thankfully. Brian was quiet and rather disengaged for the remainder of the evening. Linda on the other hand, had worked the crowd, as it were, and finally decided that she was sufficiently inebriated and demanded that Brian take her home. Now. Jayne watched as Brian rose to his feet, still slouching a bit. He mustered a smile and quietly apologised to Freddie. 

“For what, dear?!” Freddie questioned. 

“For...all of this...and you know...the usual.” Brian replied, sounding completely defeated, deftly gesturing towards his girlfriend. 

“Nonsense, Brian!” Freddie replied, “Just go take Linda home and get some sleep!” 

Freddie’s suggestion made Linda smirk, but it was laced with sympathy, and suggested an out for Brian. Brian nodded, his dark curls bobbing, and he turned to Jayne, biting his bottom lip briefly before offering her a simple ‘goodnight’ before he turned to leave; Linda dragging him out the door by his hand.

“Well!” Freddie exclaimed, slapping you on your thigh. “It’s well past the witching hour, and Darling, I’m spent! Don’t bother calling a cab, you can crash here, love.” 

Jayne began to shake her head in protest. She really just wanted to go home and be alone. 

“Nononononono!! I won’t have it! You're sleeping over and that’s final! You can take Brian’s room, since he’s not coming home, and we can have tea and toast when we wake up! It’ll be fun!” 

Freddie never seemed to run out of ‘fun’ ideas. But the idea of sleeping in Brian’s room kind of horrified her. On another level though, she was intrigued. Jayne relented as her good judgement failed her, and Freddie clapped his hands in delight. 

“It’s settled then! Come, I’ll take you to his room.” 

Freddie grabbed Jayne’s hand and lead her up the stairs and down the hallway. He opened Brian’s bedroom door and flicked on the bedside table lamp. 

“And don’t you dare even fight me on this, Jayne, but you cannot sleep in your clothes, so here, you can sleep in this.” 

He handed her a t-shirt that appeared to be at least three sizes too big for her, and shrugged. 

“It’s one of Brian’s. He won’t care. He won’t find out, either, love. Goodnight, sleep tight, dear!” 

And with a quick peck on the cheek, Freddie danced out of the room and closed the door behind him. 

Jayne huffed and fought the urge to run out of the house as fast as her legs would take her, but she was drunk, tired and it was cold outside. She felt like she was invading Brian’s privacy, so she changed into the shirt - _ his shirt _ \- and didn’t bother to wash her face. She glanced quickly around the room and crawled into the neatly made bed. The whole bedroom was neat and tidy, a tall shelf filled with books, a dresser, and a chair at the foot of the bed with a guitar next to it. Brian’s guitar. Jayne, in her drunken state, quietly prayed she wouldn’t kick it over in her sleep.

The moaning and sex-sounds coming from Roger’s bedroom across the hall had finally begun to subside, at least. She clicked off the lamp next to the bed and laid her head down on Brian’s pillow. She stared up at the ceiling in the darkness and began to squeeze her eyes shut and then open them again, repeatedly. Either she was extremely drunk or there were things on the ceiling above her. She focussed and allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She inhaled all the smells...Brian’s pillow smelled vaguely of vanilla and laundry soap, and of something else she couldn’t place. But it made her feel warm and comforted. 

As her eyes looked up again at the ceiling, she began to make out what her vision was blurring before. There were several little stars stuck to the ceiling. They were glowing in the darkness. They were arranged in little mini constellations. It was absolutely beautiful and adorable at the same time. 

Jayne smiled and breathed in deeply, burrowing herself as much as possible into Brian’s oversized shirt and into his blankets. She found herself lulled to sleep quickly, and quite content under the gaze of Brian’s constellations.

The spring sunrise came quickly the next morning. As always, Jayne never slept well or very solidly after a night of drinking, so she was more than ready to leave when the first light of dawn peeked through Brian’s heavy curtains. She rose, and silently fixed the blankets and pillow on his bed, taking care to leave it exactly as she’d found it. She would die if Brian ever found out she’d slept in his bed. Jayne rushed to get out as quickly as possible, pulling on her leggings and shoving her black button up under her arm. She slowly turned the doorknob and crept out down the hallway, past Roger’s and Freddie’s bedrooms. In the foyer she found her jacket and boots. She slipped the boots on without tying them and silently closed the door of the house behind her.

She didn't exhale until she’d reached the end of their street, knowing she'd finally be out of view. Then she stopped to lace up her boots so as not to trip on them, and pulled her jacket on, doing up the buttons. Her shirt was still tucked under her arm, only now it was balled up in the left sleeve of her jacket. Her head pounded in a hungover protest as she sprinted down the street. It wasn't a long walk from the house to her flat; maybe fifteen minutes. She was relieved when she rounded the corner near Trident and the coffee shop came into view.

Climbing the steps up to her flat was hellish at this point. Her legs felt like jelly, and her headache was raging. Letting herself into her flat, she closed the door behind her, locked it and slid the length of her back down the door until her bottom hit the floor. She definitely had drank too much. It had been a while, after all. She sat there like that, eyes shut and head resting against the door until she decided she had to muster the energy to stand up, run a hot bath and get some water and a painkiller. She poured some cinnamon essential oil into the steaming bath water, then began to undress. 

It was then that she realized her mistake. She had left the house with Brian’s shirt. On her body. She was horrified. In a hungover panic, she pulled his shirt over her head and folded it neatly, placing it on the counter next to the bathroom sink. She patted it, as if to say “Stay there”. She groaned at her own stupidity, and stepped into the bath. Once settled in the soothing, cinnamon water, she drank back the painkiller with a cold glass, took a deep breath and sank down into the tub. She held her breath while her dark hair swirled around her head, coming up after a short time. Jayne had no idea what time it was. Maybe six a.m.? She felt languid and decided to soak for another ten minutes or so, before drying off and changing into her own clothes. 

She chose her favourite pair of sweatpants and a tank top. Thank god she didn't have to work on Sundays. She scrubbed the remnants of last night off of her face, braided her long hair, and crawled into her own bed. It didn't take long for a good proper sleep to find her, despite her mind trying its best to wander to thoughts of Brian and his beautiful, sad eyes.

Jayne was woken hours later by the god-awful sound of the door buzzer. She whimpered to herself as she dragged herself out of her cocoon to press the button.

“Whaaaaaat.” 

She didn’t pose it as a question, and didn't particularly care who was on the other end of the intercom speaker.

“I am absolutely beyond insulted! Jayne, you let me up there this instant!” Came the dramatic voice from the other side.

Freddie. Oh fuck, Freddie. She’d all but promised to share a ‘fun’ breakfast with him when they all woke up. Without a word, she pressed the other button that would allow him access to the building, and she heard him stomping up the long flight of stairs. She’d unlocked the door, and keeping her blanket wrapped around her, had already filled the kettle for tea. Jayne was too hungover to panic at this point, and decided to just submit herself to Freddie’s impending onslaught.

He didn’t even knock, just let himself into her flat, but was kind enough not to slam the door shut. Thankfully, he was hungover too. He dropped a box of tea and a container of biscuits unceremoniously on the countertop and glared at Jayne. She pressed her lips together and looked down at the floor in shame. 

“What the HELL was that?!” He demanded, one hand on his hip. “I give you a place to sleep and invite you to dine with me the next morning and what do you do? You sneak away under the cover of darkness as if you had to do the walk of shame!” 

Jayne opened her mouth to speak, but Freddie threw a hand up in front of her face, stopping her words. 

“No, I don't want to hear it.” Freddie crossed his arms and turned his head away from her, his nose in the air. 

Jayne shifted her weight a little and took a step towards him. 

“Im sorry Freddie! I was just so hungover and so gross, and stinky, and I’m so sorry for being an ungrateful guest in your home, please forgive me, I promise I’ll make this better, look I’m making tea!!” 

Jayne rambled frantically, waving her hands in front of the kettle; mortified that she had left him feeling insulted.

Freddie turned to face her swiftly, his dark brown eyes wide with mischief, and clapped his hands together.

“Ha! Gotcha!” He wrapped his arms around her, gathering her tightly to his chest, and patted her braided hair. 

“I was only teasing, Darling, but what fun it was to watch you squirm and beg my forgiveness!” He giggled and squeezed her before letting her go. 

“Freddiiieeee…” she glared at him, finishing it off with a shake of her head, placing her hand over her chest. “I truly thought you were mad at me!”

“Oh just taking the piss, my dear!” He exclaimed as the kettle began to whistle. 

“Now look, I've brought over Brian’s box of Earl Grey, and the rest of the pastries I’d picked up yesterday. If they’re stale we can just dip them in our tea.”

“Sounds perfect, Freddie, but why Brian’s box of tea?” Jayne inquired as she poured the hot water into the teapot.

“Because his is the best, and I’m all out!” 

He snickered, covering his mouth with his hand as he giggled. Jayne loved how Freddie could turn the most innocent action into one of great scandal, if he wanted to. He was fun. And he was safe. Not the best secret-keeper, she was coming to learn, but safe nonetheless.

They got comfortable in her modest flat, sitting on the couch with their legs crossed, facing one another. The tea, biscuits and a bottle of aspirin on the coffee table in front of them. Jayne had opened a window to let the springtime air in, and an Ella Fitzgerald record played quietly in the background. She shared her blanket with Freddie as the conversation and time wore on, both of them too lazy to consider closing the window after the flat had cooled off somewhat. 

They discussed Roger and his obvious mission to take Jayne to bed, come hell or high water. She assured Freddie that this would never happen in a million years. He countered her claim, having caught a glimpse of them in the kitchen the night before. She brushed it off, explaining that Roger was just being Roger ...only he was drunk Roger and she was drunk Jayne, so she’d given him a little extra leeway, but nothing more. She didn’t bring anything up about Brian, or Linda for that matter. Jayne knew that if she talked about Brian, her eyes would give her away, and Freddie was a perceptive man. 

“Darling, tell me how you came to live all the way over here in London, then?” Freddie inquired with an arched eyebrow.

“Ahhh, well, I flew here on a plane, Fred.”

He rolled his eyes at her and swatted at her arm. 

“Come onnnn, you know what I mean! Tell me why you left Canada? I want all the dirt!” He sipped his tea and got comfy.

“Honestly, there isn’t much to tell….” 

Jayne trailed off and her brain desperately searched for a reasonable explanation that was rather far from the honest truth. 

“As you already know, my parents are both gone, no siblings, and I was studying medicine.”

“Where?” Freddie asked, “Where exactly?” 

“In Western Canada, actually. We have amazing mountains there, wildlife, forests, vast uninhabited landscapes.” 

She talked more animatedly now, trying to divert his attention from the ‘dirt’ that he was ultimately after. 

“Where I grew up, you could travel by car from the Pacific ocean, through the mountains, and into the flat prairies in a day and a half, if you stopped only to pee and eat.” 

Freddie’s eyes grew wide at the thought, they way she described the landscapes, the colours, the feeling of the place...she talked about home with such passion, he’d quite forgotten about the whys or the hows of her departure from a place like that. 

“So, that’s why when I arrived here to attend Imperial, I had to rent a furnished flat. I couldn't bring much with me on the journey, other than the few personal items you see.” 

Jayne waved her hand around the living room towards the books on the shelf, along with a few trinkets. In the corner was a bass guitar, but no amp. Her bedroom was next to the living room and the doorway was quite wide, so it almost seemed like her whole flat was one giant room, except for the kitchen around the corner, and the bathroom, of course. 

“I’m working on gaining acceptance into the distance learning portion of the med program at Imperial, since I need to keep working.”

“Are you broke, Jayne?” Freddie never sugar coated anything.

“No, actually, I just like to work and be busy.” Jayne laughed. “I have a small inheritance that I can draw from if need be, so I’m okay”. 

She didn’t mind telling Freddie this much, she trusted him, and she really hadn't told him much of anything. To her relief, it seemed to satisfy his curiosity. For now, anyway.

The tea pot was empty, the biscuits were gone, and the position of the sun suggested that it was probably late afternoon, by now. Freddie slid the blanket off his lap, and stood up from the couch, reaching his arms way above his head in a good stretch.

“Well, my love, I’d better be going. Mary will wonder if I’ve met a beautiful woman - wait, I have - but she’ll worry that I might never come back. Thank you for your company, and for managing to keep our breakfast date!”

Jayne stood up too, and walked Freddie to the door. She pushed the half empty box of Earl Grey into his hands and thanked him for spending his hangover with her, and bringing treats.

He shoved the box of tea back into her hand. 

“Noooo, you keep this. It will be pure joy watching Brian go nuts looking for it!” He giggled at his idea of yet another potential scandal.

“Alright, if you say so, Freddie.” Jayne smiled and he gave her a kiss before waving goodbye and trotting down the staircase out to the street.

Closing the door, with the box of tea in her hand, it struck her fleetingly that Freddie seemed to be ‘leaving’ Brian’s belongings with her, rather conveniently. Strange man, that Freddie. She wondered if Brian might ever come looking for his Earl Grey, or his shirt, for that matter. She shook her head and opened the physiology textbooks. 

Jayne trudged through her work week. The boys all came by almost daily to buy coffee and desserts, all but Brian. She began to wonder why he never had to make the coffee run? It was always the other three, and occasionally Mary or Ronnie, if they were in the studio with them.

The weekend was a day away, and Jayne had only dropped by the studio twice to hang out, despite the repeated invitations. It was certainly fun to hang out with the girls on the couch, sipping the coffee that Jayne had brought along with her, giggling over girl talk, and watching the boys’ antics in the box. They were all very friendly, except for Brian. 

He hardly looked at Jayne when she was there, and never came out to relax on the couches with them during breaks. Linda never ever dropped by, though Freddie assured everyone that she and Brian were indeed still an item. Apparently, Linda was just decidedly unsupportive of the band, and by proxy, their friendships and ultimately, Brian’s dreams. It was sad and maddening all at the same time.

Jayne had settled on the fact that Brian simply didn’t like her much, and that whatever she felt every single time she’d been anywhere near him, let alone looked at him, was nothing. Nothing but a silly crush that would eventually pass away, if starved of attention long enough. 

It was mid afternoon three weeks later on a Friday when Deaky strolled into the shop. Jayne smiled at him and leaned over to give him a quick hug. 

“The usual then, Deacon, John Deacon?” She asked playfully.

“Not today, actually. I’ve just come by to invite you to our gig tonight. It’s at the pub just around the corner; we’re filling in at the last minute at it occurred to me that you’ve never actually seen us play. Would you like to come?” 

He looked at her hopefully. “That is, if you’re free tonight?”

Jayne furrowed her brow and hummed thoughtfully. The hope faded from Deaky’s eyes.

“Oh god, of course I’ll be there! You know I can’t say no to you even if I wanted to, Deaky!”

He gave a wide smile, and his eyes crinkled at the corners the way she liked, as he happily gave her the details before quickly leaving the shop and waving at her.

Deaky was right; Jayne had not yet been to Queen gig. She had been so focused on getting settled in her new place, hitting the textbooks and working, that she hadn’t really given herself much time to relax or let loose. She felt a surge of excitement come over her at the thought of going out, and being back in a live music venue. It was one of her favourite things, and her friends were becoming her favourite people.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
